


Wallpaper

by dreamstoreality



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamstoreality/pseuds/dreamstoreality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you asked Stiles who he would marry when he was older, Derek Hale was the absolute last person that would ever cross his mind, but here he is, laying in bed with Derek, a gold wedding band around his finger, staring at that god damned wallpaper.<br/>Stiles really hated that wallpaper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wallpaper

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a random, domestic Sterek one-shot. After watching tonights episode I think we need it.

Sunday. The last (or first, depending on how you look at it) day of the week, and Stiles Stilinski-Hales’ favourite.

Sunday is the lazy day; the _do-nothing-and-watch-stupid-reality-tv-shows-and-not do-chores_ day. The _Derek-looks-incredibly-hot-in-nothing-but-sweatpants_ day. The day where Stiles isn’t able to get out of bed until _atleast_ noon because of _somebody’s_ incredible werewolf strength.

“We should just rename Sunday to ‘Derek kidnaps Stiles and doesn’t let him get chores done’ day,” Stiles jokes, trying to get out of Derek’s grip, to no avail. “Seriously Derek. I have things I need to do.” Derek growls and tightens his grip on Stiles’ waist, pulling him back against his chest.

“You’re not getting up from this bed,” He says, nosing along the back of Stiles’ neck. “I’m not going to let you.” Stiles sighs and gives in. No point in getting even _more_ bruises than he already had.

Derek really was a wolf in bed.

“Can I atleast shift positions so I can be looking at something other than the tacky wallpaper? Because it really is tacky, Derek. What were you-“ Suddenly, (though not so suddenly if Stiles was actually paying attention) Stiles is looking away from the wall (and the tacky wallpaper) and up at Derek, who is looking down at him with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Stiles rolls his eyes and grabs onto Derek’s shoulders, trying not to get distracted by the naked torso that was _ever-so-close_ to his face.

“Thank you but this isn’t excatly what I had in mind,” Derek raises an eyebrow, and brings his lips down so they’re inches from Stiles’.

“Oh?” Stiles gulps, and opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out except for a quiet little squeak. “That’s what I thought.”

Their kisses have always been something short of spectacular. The first time they kissed was breath-taking, and Stiles could feel Derek’s lips on his for weeks after. It was what helped him get off when Derek was away doing wolfy things and he was desperate.

But this one? This _it’s Sunday, you’re my husband I can do whatever I want to you_ kiss? This was Stiles’ favourite.

Derek pulls away and Stiles lets out a breath.

“Jesus _Christ_ Derek, where’d you get a mouth like that?” Derek lets out a laugh and leans down to pepper kisses along Stiles’ jawline. Stiles lets out a moan and moves his head to the side, and grants Derek more access, who lets out a triumphant hum. “I’m ser.. I’m _serious_ Derek. I – _Fuck,_ ” Stiles swears that Derek likes to bite him just to hear him swear.

Derek pulls away and rolls off of Stiles and onto his side of the bed. Stiles, for his part, is still staring up at where Derek just was, his cheeks pink.

“I swear to God one of these days I’m going to withold sex from you,” He finally says, turning away from Derek to face the (Stiles _really_ hates that wallpaper) wall.

“Good luck with that,”

Thanks. Stiles is going to need it.

\--

When Derek _finally_ lets Stiles leave the bed it’s already one o’clock, and half the day to clean the house was wasted because Derek’s an ass.

Not that that’s anything new.

“If our house starts getting ants, I’m making you eat them,” Stiles calls into the bedroom from where he is standing in the kitchen, hands on his hips. There wouldn’t ever be any ants. Stiles keeps the house immaculate, but Derek doesn’t need to know that.

“Something tells me you wouldn’t _actually_ make me eat ants,” Derek says, walking into the kitchen. He leans on the counter and crosses his arms over his –still- bare chest, which Stiles is _not_ looking at, thank you very much.

“Yes _actually_ I would,” He huffs, looking everywhere but Derek’s chest. “I’m sure they taste just great. And put a shirt on.” Derek raises an eyebrow and Stiles can tell he’s trying his hardest not to laugh.

“ _That’s_ the best you could come up with? _Put a shirt on_?” Stiles walks over and slaps Derek’s arm, before he pulls him down to kiss him.

“My brain isn’t working this morning, thanks to you,” He replies against Derek’s lips. “So anything I say is going to be held accountable because of you.” Derek grins and wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist.

“That I can live with,”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Does Jeff Davis think this is a game. This is not a game.


End file.
